


She Depends On You

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Anakin Skywalker, Blood and Injury, Hurt Ahsoka Tano, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Padawan Ahsoka Tano, Protective Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Sometimes being a Master is being strong and comforting your very injured padawan, even if you're terrified or in agony yourself.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	She Depends On You

**Author's Note:**

> anakin is a good master :( at least in the ways that count personally
> 
> also this is based of the scene in soul eater when soul bodily protects maka from a freefall because that scene forever lives in my mind, and of course i was like i imagine anakin doing the same

He’d told her from the start of their partnership that he just wanted to keep her in one piece. He had meant it literally, just he hadn’t imagined it in this way. Her stomach slashed, organs trying to slip through, and they would have if not for Obi-Wan’s robe tied around her waist effectively keeping her entrails from slipping through.

That and his torso as her legs were fixed around his waist, his arms tethering her close as her unconscious head sat in the crook of his neck. Her breaths strained and weak against his pulse point. 

Blood continues to slip through the cotton of Obi-Wan’s robe, quickly slipping through his own tunic and very likely staining his skin. 

“Not much further,” Obi-Wan assures for the fifth time in the past half hour, and Anakin holds back the shout building in his chest. Not wanting to jostle Ahsoka more than he already has.

The amount of blood she’d lost was only getting worse, even the colors of her stripes in his peripherals were waning. His artificial hand sweeps gently across her back head tail, willing the color back even though he knows it won’t happen until she gets a blood transfusion. 

Her lack of consciousness doesn’t bode well either yet he appreciates the stillness. Selfish in that he’s terrified of her waking and trying to move and struggle or potentially panic and plead for reassurances he doesn’t know how to give even though he’d want to.

And considering the gentle hitching breath pressed to his skin, he likely wouldn’t have a choice. Her nose scrunched and he could feel as her right lekku that was pressed to his shoulder dragged across the fabric of his tunic and passed over his armor when she pressed in closer to his throat. Chasing the heat as her body went cold.

His fingers twitched against her stripes before he tightened his hold on her thigh and her head so she wouldn’t jolt or jerk away, “Easy snips, I got you,” he murmured, knowing she heard him with how close her montrals were to the side of his jaw.

“Skyguy?” the togruta chitters softly, pain and fatigue dragging her lips over the nickname so it’s almost drowned out entirely. Thankfully she doesn’t move, limp beyond repair and secured in place.

If her master wants to hold her she wouldn’t discourage him. In fact it was nice, especially when she felt so cold and sleepy. Odd too, as if her stomach was wet and twisted. Curled and knotted, completely throwing off her center of gravity causing her head to lean heavier on her master’s shoulder. 

“What happened?” Or that’s at least what he thought she said, feeling it more than hearing it.

“Nothing much snips, you just go back to sleep okay?” his voice is as light and carefree as he could make it, as if he wasn’t acting as a flimsy human turnakit, her blood now making its way down his legs. 

Obi-Wan thankfully didn’t comment on the squelching of his boots or the warble in his shielding as he tried not to let his nervousness and fear slip through the comfort he was providing. 

That didn’t mean the ginger man held back his concerned glance, his jaw stuttering as if preparing to say something. Anakin’s pointed look wards him off, the chosen one knows what his master wants to say.  Can feel the dread looming overhead, but Anakin won’t hear it. Won’t listen to another master telling him he must be prepared to let his padawan go. It is not her time, that much he knows.

He’s sure of it. 

His padawan would live to be a knight under his tutelage, and she would be the very best of them all. It didn’t matter how much blood she covered him in, or even how light her breaths were, she wouldn’t die like this with him around.

“I have you Ahsoka,” he assures absently, raring to prove his master wrong. And the gentle nod and flexing of her fingers against his shoulders is telling enough. As a master, her master, it is his job to bear witness, and he has no intention of watching her death, not now or later, not even in his lifetime at all. 

She was strong, and would hold on like she did now with his tunic, and the cycle would begin anew. Master and Padawan side by side, in battle, making quips and fighting for a winning end.

“Anakin,” His master cautions once Ahsoka has drifted back into slumber where no pain could touch her, and Anakin bares his teeth, taking satisfaction at the gingers genuine recoil. 

He is awarded for his persistence and faith when a drop ship appears overhead, salvation and medical attention for his beaten padawan who sleepily nuzzled into his throat, continuing to hold on like he did her.

Gracing him with a mercy not all master’s or padawan’s had in this war. She didn’t force him to watch her die, and Anakin wanted to promise her the same as he laid her out on the stretcher. But he was her master, and he simply could not because he would die in a heartbeat if it kept her safe. Sadly, war likely wouldn’t bless her with the ability to not bear witness if his demise did come to be; but he’d taught her well, she would survive.

* * *

Ahsoka trails behind him, the ominous flashing red lights and echoing alarms as the descending imperial drop ship they’d infiltrated headed back towards the earth. It evidently going to blow before it even hits the ground, and the dead bodies of the crew members that’d killed each other for the remaining escape pods left them with no way out.

Not even a place to strap in and ride the destruction out. There isn’t time to think, not as the force whirrs in his brain, and his only thought is born of instinct. The instinct he had thought to be intrinsic to all masters, but alas he knows dreadfully that isn’t always so.

He’ll apologize if they survive, because surely her skin will be bruised by his grip as he wretches her arm to get ahold of her as the ship blows and they begin to fall from the sky. Consciousness knocked from them both.

Thankfully only momentarily, his mechanical arm is still locked to her arm and he knows he can’t slow their descent or pad their landing, but he can brace hers. Pulling her unconscious form closer, Anakin struggles to breathe as he crosses his arms over the front of her chest so she is flush against him before his eyes shut tightly, knowing what further pain he has to come as they crash into an array of crates filled with what he can only guess is porcelain because the crashing of glass nearly deafens him.

Pain shoots through his back, his chin smacking and resting snugly in between the peak of her montrals as splinters and lacerations staple his skin. Blood dribbling from the corner of his lips as his eyes try to focus again on the limp body laying atop his own.

He senses the initial injuries, and some bruising and whisplash that came from the fall. But otherwise she was alive and well, and no matter how much his body was screaming, mainly his back, he was content.

He’d done his duty, and Ahsoka lay prone yet in one piece, next to his heart where he knew she belonged.  He hissed against her montrals, absently muffling the noise against her stripes. Forgetting or simply because he was having a hard time thinking, that it was a noise that would surely wake her.

A moan of distress breached her lips as the girl awoke and looked up at the battle that continued in the sky, her wrist lifting gently since her arms could not with the vice like grip still around them, her fingers touched skyward in hopes she could do more to help before consciousness left her once more and she slumped further into her master’s grasp.

“It’s okay snips, Obi-Wan will handle the rest,” he assures blankly, knowing he was a second too late if the way his head fell further against her lekku before he gives in and buried his face against the blue and white.

Yeah, Obi-Wan would handle the rest. The master follows his padawan into the dark where they rest with broken ribs and bloodied scratches. The eldest in their lineage on his way to bring them home where the cycle would start anew again and again.

Anakin would protect his padawan, wear wounds that were meant for her, offer comfort when his body was on the verge of a complete break, and love her all the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


End file.
